


A Taste Like Whiskey and Smoke

by BeautyGraceOuterSpace



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Drabble Collection, Drinking away sorrows, Drunk love confessions, Hurt/Comfort, Jim is a good friend, M/M, The boys need each other, getting drunk, mckirk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 10:08:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20864471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautyGraceOuterSpace/pseuds/BeautyGraceOuterSpace
Summary: More than a little drunk, watching Jim laugh his way through a story of some prank he’d pulled on his brother as a kid, the way his mouth moved when he spoke and his eyes crinkled at the edges when he smiled, Len couldn’t stop himself from blurting out: “I love you.”Jim stopped mid-sentence, turning to face Len as his expression shifted from nostalgic mirth to something softer, a little uncertain.“Yeah?” he replied, his tone hopeful as he tried to maintain his lighthearted smile.Len shifted on his elbows and looked up at Jim where he sat, his own smile widening as he responded, “Yeah.”





	A Taste Like Whiskey and Smoke

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sleepdrunk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepdrunk/gifts).

> Based on a prompt from raisinsforsunday on tumblr, just a quick little McKirk ficlet for the fall.

His dorm was cold when he returned to it. He’d shut the heat off before leaving, knowing he’d be gone for a good week and not wanting to deal with the additional energy credits that leaving it on would accrue. **  
**

Of course, the weather report had said nothing about the current downpour, or high-speed winds, or it being 40 goddamn degrees outside. 

It was moments like these that Len really missed Georgia summers. 

With a sigh, he dropped his bag to the ground, rubbing his hands together for warmth and blowing hot air against them as he made his way to the thermostat. 

Cranking it up to 80 in his haste to get warm, he shivered out of his coat and slunk back to his couch, seating himself with a sigh and draping his coat over the arm. He hadn’t even made it to the shuttle terminal before getting the oh so charming message from his ex. 

_I’m sorry you went to all this trouble, but I just don’t think it’s a good idea right now. _

He had wanted Jim to go with him, originally. To come back and meet his mama and his daughter, to give him somewhere to spend the holiday. Jim had insisted he’d be in the way, one more thing to confuse Joanna and put Jocelyn on edge unnecessarily, and that Len would be better off going alone and enjoying the time with his daughter. The kid was too goddamn perceptive sometimes. 

_Joanna is having a rough time adjusting to her school, and the new house and… I think anything else might just be too much for her right now. _

Len hadn’t replied; he knew better than to argue with Jocelyn once she’d made up her mind about something. It never ended well. 

His communicator chirped in his coat pocket, and he reached across the arm of the couch to retrieve it, already irritated by whatever new blow he was about to be dealt by the woman refusing to let him see his own kid on Christmas. 

_Have a safe flight. - J. Kirk_

Len scoffed at the irony and fired back: _Change of plans. Staying here. - L. McCoy_

It was a few moments before his communicator chirped again. 

_??? - J. Kirk_

With another, longer sigh, he replied: _Never mind. Drinks later? - L. McCoy_

When no reply came, he resigned himself to a night of drinking alone in his dark and cold living room, wallowing in his own misery. He was ok with that. 

Of course, that all went out the window when, twenty minutes later, a loud, obnoxious knock sounded at his door. 

Hoisting himself up, he made his way over to the door and opened it to see Jim standing at the threshold, small duffel bag in hand and a smile plastered on his face. 

“Hey, Bones. You didn’t start without me, did you?” 

Len stepped aside to let Jim in, and the blond shuffled past him with a nod of thanks. “Start what?” 

“The party,” Jim replied, smirking. “Is it hot in here or is it just me?” 

Now that he mentioned it, it was getting warm. 

Jim threw himself down on the couch Len had vacated as Len went to turn down the heat to a more tolerable, moderate temperature. 

“It was freakin’ freezing when I came back,” he called over his shoulder. 

As he made his way back to the seating area, perching himself on an armchair opposite Jim, the younger man asked, “So what happened?” 

Len shook his head with a sardonic laugh. “Joce decided that it ‘wasn’t a good idea’ for me to see Jo right now.” 

Jim scoffed. “Bullshit.” 

Len smiled wanly back. “You’re telling me, kid.” 

After a long moment of silence, Jim clapped his hands together loudly. “Well,” he said, matter-of-factly. “You know what the best cure is for melancholy.” 

“Cheap liquor and bad company?” Len replied dryly. 

Jim looked affronted as he rummaged in his duffel. “You wound me, Bones,” he said, removing an amber bottle from the depths of the bag. “Very _expensive_ liquor, and _terrible_ company.” 

* * *

Many drinks later, slumped against the couch on the floor with the bottle between them, nearly empty and sweating condensation into the carpet, Len could hardly remember why he’d been upset. 

He and Jim had spent the evening swapping stories and making each other laugh, taking cheap shots at each other and never meaning a word of it. There was a reason Len had wanted Jim to come home with him in the first place. 

God, he would have missed Jim if he’d gone away for a week. 

More than a little drunk, watching Jim laugh his way through a story of some prank he’d pulled on his brother as a kid, the way his mouth moved when he spoke and his eyes crinkled at the edges when he smiled, Len couldn’t stop himself from blurting out: “I love you.” 

Jim stopped mid-sentence, turning to face Len as his expression shifted from nostalgic mirth to something softer, a little uncertain. 

“Yeah?” he replied, his tone hopeful as he tried to maintain his lighthearted smile. 

Len shifted on his elbows and looked up at Jim where he sat, his own smile widening as he responded, “Yeah.” 

After a long moment, Jim’s smile grew and he turned slightly to more fully face Len. “Prove it.” 

Len raised an eyebrow in question as he sat up more fully. Jim didn’t move beyond shifting his weight slightly and glancing down at Len’s lips as he readjusted. 

Heart hammering in his chest, Len reached out hesitantly, brushing a thumb along Jim’s cheekbone as he moved closer. Jim reacted in turn, reaching up his own hand to grasp Len’s wrist and turning into the touch slightly. 

Len leaned forward, and Jim met him in the middle. 

Jim’s lips were warm, chapped slightly from the wind and cold of the last several days, and Len could feel them curve upward as the blond smiled against him. They moved closer still, and Len relished the movement of Jim’s shoulders as he pulled him close, mouth soft and tasting of whiskey, smokey and bitter. 

When they broke apart, each a little breathless and smiling wide, he asked, “Proof enough for you?” 

Jim laughed. “I dunno,” he replied, reaching for Len again. “I think I need some more convincing.”


End file.
